


Formality

by nbj



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insecurity, Introspection, Slice of (royal) Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:15:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22158436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nbj/pseuds/nbj
Summary: He fixated gold on grey. Grey and white, covered in delicate black lines was the marble of which his image was to be made.Pure and flawless stone, from which the best earth bender in the world would not be able to carve his image.One of many situations at the beginning of Zuko's reign where he learns new ways of dealing with others and himself...and maybe how to let go of old ones.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 60





	Formality

**Author's Note:**

> A little old _something_ that I rediscovered in the depths of my computer files after it ripened there for three years.

Zuko nervously changed his position on the throne for what felt like the thousandths time and still could not find a comfortable way to sit.  
Maybe it was the lingering spirit of his father who had given the cruellest orders from this exact seat or maybe it was simply because Zuko’s body wasn’t used to just sitting around for hours on end without doing something, leaving all the work to his head.

Until this day, Zuko was still not sure during some dark and tired hours whether this had been responsible, had been a wise decision.  
To make him Fire Lord.  
While he could understand the points his Uncle made, in his opinion, there were much more things speaking against than in favour of him being the Fire Nation’s ruler.

His opinion.  
What was it worth anyway?  
If somebody liked it, it counted; if not…  
What was it that Mai had said after his last meeting with the Grand generals? After he’d spent the whole evening recounting to her, from tiredness and frustration, again and again, General Xoang’s stupidity until she’d snapped at him that he simply should have said _no_. 

He was the Fire Lord. It didn’t matter whether his opinion counted or not. If he wanted it, his opinion would be the _law_.

But she didn’t understand, nobody understood…he himself probably the least.  
Iroh had told him that he should give himself time. The way his body would need time to adjust to sitting on the throne for long periods of time, his mind would have to adjust to the sudden absence of permanent danger and necessary alertness.

And no matter how strongly Zuko tried to ignore and not acknowledge it, he knew very well that his uncle had hardly meant the numerous dangers that Zuko had faced in his three years of exile.  
Rather, he had hinted at the dangers present all the years before, which yet had to be talked about.  
Zuko knew what his uncle tried to tell him; there was the demeaning and shameful truth that he feared speaking out, stating his opinion.

He directed his gaze back in front of him, fixated gold on grey. Grey and white, covered in delicate black lines was the stone of which his image was to be made.  
He would have preferred, would have even considered it an honour, had Toph or even Aang been allowed to bend it. But to break such strong tradition so soon after his coronation was something he would not dare.

The short, shrivelled stone carver kneeling beside the block of marble started to wriggle, nervously trying to lift his gaze to see his Lord’s reaction without being disrespectful.

Taking a deep breath, Zuko willed his mind to focus once more.

“I do not see a problem with the stone presented, Master Tizako. You have the experience and mastery of two generations, have sculpted many statues flawlessly.”  
At this, the carver lifted his eyes fully. But then, instead of leaving the throne room, he just stared at Zuko.

A familiar impatience let the young Fir Lord wrinkle his forehead.  
“Master Tizako, is there something else you needed?”  
He really tried to keep the bitterness out of the man’s title and the question but succeeded only partially.

“Milord, Sire, Lord Zuko…my question had been whether you’d wish to…whether I should…how you’d want…me to…carve your face. Simply a question of aesthetics and symmetry, Milord. Just a formality, Milord.”

For a moment, all warmth seemed to be ripped from Zuko’s body.  
He closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath, afraid he’d burn the old man to a crisp when breathing out. A sharp burn didn’t let him open his eyes again. 

His thoughts were racing, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t…  
He had to _get away_.

Away from the pure, flawless stone, from which the best earth bender in the world would not be able to carve his image.  
Away from these old eyes trying to feign ignorance.  
Away from the golden eyes holding innocence while knowing exactly the atrocities that were to come.  
Away from these eyes in which a child’s tears were reflected, so indifferent, so…

_“You're not the man you used to be, Zuko. You are stronger and wiser and freer than you have ever been.”_  
He breathed out. 

“Master Tizako, if your eyes are sharp enough to form filigree stone with hammer and chisel, then they are sharp enough to build an appropriate image of your Fire Lord, or am I mistaken?”

The finality in his Lord’s voice seemed to seal the stone carver’s lips.  
He bowed deeply and didn’t stand up fully until he’d left the room.  
Just a formality, of course.

**Author's Note:**

> This work was not originally written in English but was later translated. Therefore, I apologize if some phrases seem a bit off or stiff.


End file.
